I’m not sure what to believe anymore. Still on the floor, I slide back from him. I wrap my arms around my knees and stare, feeling devastated. “What does this mean? Is more of my skin going to fall off?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I whimper, the horror of it nearly too much. “What else? What else is going to happen to me?”
Monroe pauses. “The Forgotten are sent from the light to live among us. And as you save people, continuing your destiny, this body will wear away. The energy will build inside you until you’re gone completely—a brilliant burst of light that’s more beautiful that anything you can ever imagine. You’ll leave us all with your love.”
I gasp. “Itisgoing to kill me.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s going to set you free. It’ll let you go from this form so that you can spread your light, your love. You save lives.”
“I don’t want to save anybody,” I say. “You’re wrong. It’s not true.” And suddenly I just want him to leave. To leave me alone so that I can lie down, rest my body. Everything hurts, but it only reminds me of how much I want to keep my skin. Forget the light. I won’t go.
I stand up, flinching as I put pressure on my thighs. “Good night,” I say to Monroe, and walk toward the apartment door. I open it but don’t turn around. I don’t want to see that adoring look he has for the gold on my shoulder. When I don’t hear him move I say good night again, only louder. He gets up.
Monroe Swift—doctor extraordinaire—pauses in front of me, his blond eyebrows pulled together in concern. I used to think he could save the world. I used to think he cared for me.
“Soon you’ll understand,” he says.
I glare at him, angry. Scared. He nods and starts out the door. “Monroe?” I call. He stops and glances over his shoulder. “Why are they called the Forgotten?”
His eyes weaken, like he might cry. But instead, he clears his throat. “You’ll know soon enough, sweetheart.” He looks at the ground and then to me. “Let’s keep this between us, shall we?” he asks.
“Like anyone would believe me.” I touch the stitches, mostly to check that they’re still there. That this is still happening.
I close my eyes, listening to the sound of his shoes slapping on the tiles. And when it’s quiet, I close the door and lean against it.
Even though I’m mad that Monroe has been keeping secrets from me, I want to believe that he won’t let anything happen to me. No matter what he says now, he won’t just let me die. I’ve known him since I was a kid. He’s friends with Mercy. He’s friends withme.
And he’s the only person who can help me.
Feeling unsteady, I stumble across the room to the couch. Even if Monroe is wrong about my skin, it doesn’t explain the Need. It doesn’t explain why I’m consumed with helping people I don’t know.
I yawn, feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. I’ll get more answers, but not tonight. I glance at the clock on the wall and see that it’s after midnight. I close my eyes, hoping that in the morning things will go back to normal... or as normal as they were yesterday. Which, admittedly, isn’t all that normal.
